God. My light.
One of the men takes a step forward, an arrogant smirk tugging at his lips. I wait for him to lunge at Hana, but instead, she’s the one to attack.
Gutted, I watch as the other half of my soul turns into a feral animal. She only manages to get two punches in before his arms lock around her. Hana screams, the sound sharp and filled with panic, as he easily lifts her off the floor. When he turns, she kicks out, sending the frame shattering on the floor. She manages to squirm out of his hold and darts away, scrambling over the bed.
They all move forward, and when they corner her, Hana’s fist delivers a throat punch to the nearest guy. For a sliver of a second, I’m filled with pride as she takes on four men, each one twice her size. The one who looks like the leader punches her, and it sends a wave of rage flooding my veins. My eyes lock on his face, and I imprint the image in my mind.
I’m going to fucking rip his heart out.
They overwhelm Hana, tearing screams from her. As they carry her out of the room, my eyes move to the next screen, and seeing Hana thrashing makes me clench my jaw harder. Again she wiggles free, only to have her head slammed against the wall by one of the men. I memorize his face. Every. Fucking. Feature.
Hana slumps to the ground, and I hear her groan, “Tristan.”
Pain sears my heart until it’s nothing but a pile of smoldering ash. My top lip twitches as they carry her out of the penthouse.
“Albanians,” Demitri mutters. “Probably Lleshi Prifti’s men.”
“Fuck,” Alexei growls. He rewinds the footage and pauses on the image of the men entering the penthouse. He gestures at the men's forearms that all have an L tattooed on their right arms and a P on the left. “Definitely his men. They all have the same tattoos.”
My throat is so tight, I can’t manage a single word. It feels as if my skin is peeling back from my bones, baring the demon inside me for all to see.
“This is because we took business from them,” Demitri says.
“So they took something of ours,” Alexei growls darkly.
Slowly, I roll my shoulders as my fingers open and close around the gun. “Time for war.”
Chapter 25
TRISTAN
Demitri called Mr. Wan and his crew to remove the concierge and guard’s bodies, and to clean up all evidence of what happened.
I’m standing in front of the sweeping bay windows, staring blindly at the city.
On edge. Maddened. Thirsting for blood.
“Mr. Hayes,” Mr. Wan murmurs. I turn my eyes to him, and seeing the photo Hana placed next to our bed in his hand, I take it from him. “Thank you.”
My gaze locks on Hana’s face.
The happiness and love shining from her eyes.
I’m going to fucking kill every single one of them.
The light.
I’m going to bathe in their blood.
My soul.
My hand begins to tremble, and walking to the coffee table, I set the photo down.
Demitri ends the call he was on, then says, “Let’s go.” He called in his men, and we’re all meeting at Alexei’s place.
Leaving the penthouse, it feels like I’m stuck in the center of an inferno. Flames lick at my skin, the heat pours through my bones. Hana groaning my name echoes in my ears.
When we get to Alexei’s house, Demitri’s two men, Nikhil and Sacha, are waiting for us. We all walk to Alexei’s private armory in the basement. Rows and rows of weapons and ammunition are on display in glass cabinets.
Demitri opens all the cabinets and begins to remove one gun after the other. Alexei picks up a Glock and holds it out to me. As I take it from him, our eyes lock, and he says, “We’ll get our Hana back.”
Knowing I have the best men with me is the only comfort I have right now. It’s the only thing keeping me from losing my mind.
I know what the Albanians are like. They’ll either torture or use her, and once they’re bored… they’ll kill her. Either way, Hana doesn’t have long.
An urgency makes my heart thunder in my chest. I suck in a shaky breath, and it has Alexei shaking his head. “Don’t think about what they will do to her. Just focus on getting her back.”
Taking off my jacket, I throw it aside. Concentrating on the mission, I take a bulletproof vest and put it on before I roll up my sleeves. I shove the Glock into the back of my pants' waistband, so it’s next to my personal one, and then I add extra clips into my pockets. I strap two K-Bar knives to my belt, with the intent of using them to cut out their fucking hearts.
We’re all armed to the teeth, and anything extra is loaded into a duffle bag.
For a moment, I glance at the four men willing to go to war for the woman I love. I struggle to get the words out. “Thank you.”
Alexei grips my shoulder, his dark gaze locking with mine. “Time to hunt.”
Leaving the basement, flashes of Hana fighting for her life fills my mind.
Any warmth left in my body drains away until I shudder from the icy layer coating my skin.
Your darkness is coming, my light.
HANA
Tristan.
He’s my first thought as I sluggishly come to. I’m lying on something cold. My head pounds, and pressing my fingers lightly to my temple, I flinch from the sharp ache.
Prying my eyes open, it takes me a moment to focus on my surroundings. I glance at my hand, and seeing blood on the tips of my fingers, my mind clears quickly.
Instantly, fear pulses through my body, sending a burst of energy through me. It helps me to push myself up, lifting my chest from the floor.
My breathing speeds up as I glance around me. It looks like I’m in a half-completed bathroom. Everything is gray with raw cement. There’s a brownish-stained tub, a sink that doesn’t look much better, and a hole in the ground where I think the toilet should be.
My mouth is dry, and my tongue feels thick as shock ripples over me, causing unnerving pinpricks to crawl over my body.
Climbing to my feet, something rattles. It’s only then I notice the shackle around my ankle. It’s attached to a chain that’s bolted into the wall.
Oh. My. God.
Dread washes over me, making my heartbeat speed up.
Where am I?
It takes another couple of seconds for me to remember what happened. The men. The struggle. The pain. The horror.
They took me.
My body freezes, and my hearing sharpens, taking in every sound around me.
Footsteps. A door shutting somewhere. Everything echoes. Something falling. It sounds like a bottle cap bouncing on the concrete. A chair scraping.
I hear voices, but I don’t understand the language. It sounds aggressive and harsh, the words clipped.
This is bad.
My fear increases until my body trembles, and a sickening feeling wells in my stomach.
Footsteps come in my direction, and I move back, causing the chain to rattle. I hear a man chuckle, and then he mutters something, making another man laugh.
The wooden door slams open, creaking before it bangs against a wall, and then I come face to face with two of the men who took me. There’s a deep scratch across the cheek of the one on the left, and it fills me with a sliver of satisfaction to know I hurt him.
“Wildcat,” he grins as he lets out a chuckle. The smirk on his face only makes his eyes look darker. Terrified, I stare at them.